City of Witches

Chapter 518: Missing (5)

0% 1.

A full day had passed since Siwoo disappeared, and by then, Amelia was certain—this situation was far more serious than it seemed.

This was Shin Siwoo, after all.

There was no way he’d just leave a single note behind and wander outside for an entire day.

She had Sophia spread the ‘Ravens’ network across all of Gehenna and personally tracked down everyone he was close with, asking each one if they’d seen him.

She met with Sharon, Takasho, Cybele Periwinkle, Countess Yesod, even dropped by the Gemini mansion twice.

But not a single soul had seen Siwoo.

By the second day, when nothing turned up, a gnawing panic began to claw its way through her.

She was now sure something had happened to him.

Because there’s no way he’d just vanish like that without a wordwordage .

Amelia didn’t simply give in to despair.

This was a matter concerning Siwoo, of all people.

She was determined to do everything she could right away.

“Please help me.”

She sought out his acquaintances, asking for assistance, and combed through every inch of Gehenna.

Sharon guessed he might’ve impulsively gone to see Duchess Tiphereth, so she headed out to meet the Sua branch manager in the modern world.

But even after two days, then three, there was still no trace of Siwoo.

Amelia was wandering aimlessly across Gehenna when she finally received a message from Sophia.

A suspicious person had been seen lurking in one of the unguarded dead zones of Gehenna.

Amelia didn’t hesitate. She bolted straight for the maple forest where Sophia had spotted the witch.

It was common for exiles or criminal exiles to sneak into Gehenna while hiding their identities, so it could just be an illegally immigrated exile.

But her gut screamed otherwise.

There had to be a connection Between Siwoo disappearing and a mysterious intruder being discovered at the same time.

Maybe it was just Amelia’s desperate hope twisting her logic, but she’d find out when she faced them.

And once she stood before the witch Sophia had found, Amelia attacked without a second thought.

The opponent was a criminal exile.

The scent of blood was so thick that she couldn’t even guess how many people this person had killed.

The fight didn’t last long.

Amelia’s particle magic didn’t leave much room for counterattacks.

The ordinary falling rainwater, resonating with Amelia’s wave, was the seed of particles that bloom into flowers.

That moment someone let their guard down and got soaked, Amelia took complete control of their mana—and in a magic battle, that’s everything.

What was important here was that the rain had ‘no special qualities.’

If the opponent didn’t know what they were dealing with, or wasn’t unusually cautious, Amelia could wipe the floor with them.

As a result, what could hardly be called a battle ended in a hollow victory for Amelia.

She shackled the witch and brought her straight to the Gemini mansion.

The situation was so urgent that even Albireo, who had shut herself away from everything, came out to greet her.

Albireo’s expression was a mix of shock and disbelief as she looked at Amelia.

“I captured a criminal exile.”

“....What?”

Albireo’s point of view—

When Albireo got the emergency message that Amelia had caught the ‘True Ancestor Witch’ sneaking into Gehenna, she finally dragged herself out of bed, sick or not, to face it.

If she was honest...

Seeing Amelia right then didn’t sit easy with her.

When Amelia came to him with a serious expression saying, ‘I think Siwoo is missing,’ she had to hide her guilt and send her back.

No matter how worried Amelia was about Siwoo’s disappearance, how could she tell her that he had gone on a love escape trip with Deneb?

It wasn’t just about moral lines or saving face. If that truth came out, it’d be a full-on scandal that could drag the whole Countess lineage through the mud.

“You really did something incredible.”

Even if the duty was more symbolic these days, the Gemini family was still responsible for punishing criminal exiles who trespassed into Gehenna.

That’s what the underground prison was for.

“I want to lock her up and interrogate her.”

Albireo blinked again as he looked at the criminal exiles that Amelia had dragged in.

While Amelia had no visible injuries, her opponent was in a pitiful state.

Outwardly, there weren’t any major injuries, but the mana circuits within the criminal exile’ body were utterly wrecked.

No way she’d be able to cast spell anytime soon.

Albireo had thought the ‘True Ancestor Witch’ was ranked at the 21st tier. And yet, Amelia took her down that easily?

It was another reminder that Amelia was a witch on the same level as the great Duchess Tiphereth.

“I think she’s connected to Siwoo’s disappearance.”

But despite her combat prowess, Albireo dismissed Amelia’s words as a stretch.

She figured Amelia had simply convinced herself Siwoo was missing and had been tearing through Gehenna in a panic.

And this idiot exile? Probably just wandered in clueless and got beat down.

Not that Albireo would ever say that out loud.

Since only Countess Gemini could use magic in the underground prison, Amelia would need her help for the interrogation.

“I’ll unlock the dungeon for you. And of course, I’ll assist with the questioning.”

“Thank you.”

Originally, Albiereo didn’t help anyone at any time.

She basically considers what kind of profit will fall first, a businessman to the core.

But due to a debt of gratitude she felt towards Amelia, Albireo readily promised her cooperation.

2.

Various cultural depictions of vampires share a common characteristic: they sleep regardless of the circumstances.

Whether they were doused in holy water, stabbed through the heart and thrown into eternal slumber, or just napping away in a creepy coffin during the day..

That last one was practically a vampire trademark.

But Claire Asmodeus hated sleep.

Or to put it more precisely, she despised the nightmares that inevitably followed whenever she did.

Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the same things: her old study from her apprentice days, and her mother and master—Elizabeth Asmodeus.

Even the most heinous criminal exiles would cherish their apprentices as if they were their own offspring, but not every witch master built that kind of cozy bond.

“You can’t even get this right? Dumb bitch. How the fuck did someone like you become my apprentice?”

Her master’ sharp, bony finger jabbed hard against the crown of Claire’s head.

One of Calire’s cheeks was swollen from the many blows she’d received this morning, and her lips, which had been repeatedly pierced without healing, oozed ooze instead of blood.

‘...I’m sorry, Mother.’

Elizabeth roughly grabbed Claire’s cheek as she replied in a very timid voice.

Claire’s shoulders hardened like stones.

The habitual terror, ingrained deep into her bones, only made her master’s mocking smirk widen.

‘That prophecy agency is a bunch of frauds, seriously. I should just kill you and get assigned a new apprentice. Claire—do you really think you’re worthy of the name Asmodeus? Do you? Really?’

Her cutting words were more damaging than simple physical abuse, tearing into Claire.

The great Asmodeus.

Or rather, the once-great Asmodeus.

The Asmodeus family had once stood among the highest-ranked witches.

Just considering how the legends and tales of vampires spread across the continent gives an idea of how much influence the Asmodeus family had wielded throughout history.

There was a time they had commanded nearly a thousand human servants of the night, hosting bloody feasts every night in gloomy castles.

But when Keter outlawed wild human experiments and introduced the concept of criminal exiles, the Asmodeus family began to fall behind.

Their self-essence magic needed tons of blood to work.

And with no more war prisoners or disposable commoners to feed on, their research stalled.

Thus, the blood of the Asmodeus family, now limping like a crippled dog, started flowing with inferiority and hysteria instead of pride and dignity.

And Claire’ master, Elizabeth, seemed to embody that tainted blood.

She lived over a hundred years without gaining even a single rank. She carved her frustrations into Claire’s flesh, using her apprentice as a punching bag to feed her ego.

As if that wasn’t enough, once Claire’s budding breasts matured into those of an adult, Elizabeth began casting strange, lingering glances her way.

One day.

While whipping Claire’s back as usual, Elizabeth stared at her, breathing heavily.

Her breath reeked with a foul, nauseating stench.

“Stop...! Master! Please don’t...!”

Claire, dragged by her hair and thrown onto the floor, thrashed to escape.

But for claire, a mere apprentice witch, shaking off Elizabeth was impossible from the start.

‘Stay still! You’re my apprentice, so you obey your master.’

If there was anything to be thankful for, it was that the bruises started to fade a little.

The unfortunate thing was that the empty spaces on her skin were replaced by sharp teeth marks.

She couldn’t even tell anymore—was that the blessing, or the curse?

The next memory was of a pitch-black basement room. A bed.

‘Claire, come here. Crawl.’

Her master was lying there, barely clothed.

On a nearby shelf sat an array of tools, meticulously arranged, designed to inflict extreme humiliation on a woman.

Elizabeth wasn’t just a perv—she was a hardcore sadist, and she had zero qualms about molding her apprentice to her twisted tastes.

‘You don’t like it?’

Claire’s eyes trembled as they scanned the tools—but she couldn’t say no.

If she crawled between her master’s legs and did what she wanted, the beatings would ease up, at least for a while.

‘You filthy slut, acting all high and mighty like some noble bitch at first. This is your true nature, huh? You love it, don’t you?’

Or she’d be turned into a toy, groaning like a used-up ragdoll.

That damn master was a selfish bitch to the end.

Elizabeth used Claire as a toy for years, and when she got bored, she didn’t even give Claire a chance to stab her in the heart. She just handed off the brand and vanished.

No farewell. Not even a cheap one.

Claire wandered aimlessly.

Though her master had vanished, Claire felt another brand that she had left behind.

Ironically, Claire, left alone, felt confusion, and even longing and love, for the void left by her cruel master.

The only human connection Claire, who’d been used as little more than a tool for perverse lust, had ever learned one of utter submission—where she surrendered every shred of agency to a tyrant who controlled her body and soul.

Like a freed slave begging for chains again.

Claire felt not relief but fear, unable to grasp what to do, in the freedom she was experiencing for the first time.

‘Hey there. So you’re my new business partner, huh? What’s your name?’

The one who completely turned Claire’s life around was her lover, Bianca Belleli, the Witch of Desire.